


You're Alive

by ashisfriendly



Series: Dust to Dust [2]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Anxiety Attacks, Bath Sex, Bathtubs, Bubble Bath, F/M, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 07:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: How Leslie and Ben deal with the hardships of being assassins. || Assassins AU





	You're Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galentines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galentines/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Enjoy this thing which was supposed to be pure smut but turned into something else oops.
> 
> Thanks to Nicole for the beta.

She didn’t always do this.

Before, she would let this things fester. Things, thoughts, feelings, worries, goals, questions, her body. There was so much to consider, there still is, but then she didn’t know how to contain it all. She tried, she told herself she was doing just fine, she was handling this, she was doing her best and the proof was in her spinning mind and sore body. The proof was that she stayed up all night and that sugar and coffee kept her awake and alert. The proof was that she was a natural. Ron always said she was a natural.

Leslie’s not sure if it’s her age or time that has worn on her. She blames age when she gets caught in a situation she didn’t mean to, she blames the time and experience and confidence when something goes wrong and her heart beats too fast and she can’t get out of the what-if spirals. She’s incredible at what-if spirals.

Really, if she thinks about it, Ben is great at worrying in the moment, at catching small details and working his way out into complications and problems, piecing them back together. Leslie doesn’t think like that, she used to never. Now, it happens, in varying degrees due to varying assignments. Some are nothing. Some are everything. Some leave her without a trace and some dig into her skin and make homes in her muscles and push against her chest until she can’t breathe.

 _It’s my age_ , she tells herself. _It wasn’t supposed to happen that way_ , she thinks. _I could’ve died, I could’ve died, I could’ve died._

“You’re alive, shh, you’re alive.”

She’s saying these things out loud, so he’s hearing her words and trying to sooth her. Leslie can feel the shake in Ben’s fingers as they go up and down her arms. The blood has dried along his hands, but Leslie swears she streaks of red as they pass her skin. He asks her to breathe and she tries, fuck if she doesn’t try, but it feels impossible.

Ben scoops her up and takes her to the bathroom, plopping her onto the sink, feet dangling as he leans her back against the mirror. Another hotel room, another home that isn’t theirs, another night where they could be ripped apart by death. Falling in love with Ben gave Leslie one more thing to want to live for and it was starting to feel too much.

Maybe it wasn’t age or experience or confidence. Maybe it was Ben.

She turns her head, hair sticking to the mirror behind her, pulling at her scalp a little. Ben’s starting a bath in the oversized tub. This is what he does for her now. He takes care of her. He loves her. When this happens, he starts a bath, he turns off the lights, only to leave a crack in the door to let in a small glow from the hotel room. He puts hotel shampoo in the bath to make weak bubbles and make the room smell like damp flowers or humid vanilla. 

This all sounds cheap and haphazard, but the truth is Leslie loves it. Leslie knows it helps. And Ben is trying, this is the best he can do when their home is just another hotel room with ghosts of rapists, murderers, and threats to the US government lingering in the vibration of their fingers or the blood on their clothes.

“Breathe, Leslie,” Ben reminds her, grabbing the mini shampoo bottle and emptying it into the water.

Leslie takes a deep breath. Another. It’s working, it always fucking works. 

He comes back to her as the water fills up and pulls her from the counter. She’s wobbly on her legs, but he undresses her carefully while cradling her swaying body. His blood-stained hands cup her face and he kisses her and it helps most of all. The tightness leaves her body in small waves and she feels weak, that post-anxiety attack rush of guilt and self deprecation starting to prickle in her chest. It’s expanding fast and Ben pulls back, as if sensing it and shakes his head at her, eyes steady and dark. 

This has happened before. With her, with him. When it’s Ben who can’t shake an assignment, he needs to cocoon himself in bed and Leslie spends hours rubbing his back until he falls asleep or he turns around to climb onto her body and release all of it through kisses on her skin. He’s cried in the middle of hte night and she’s cried when he wakes her in the morning, as if she’s realizing her life isn’t a dream.

She’s not the weak one, and neither is Ben, they’ve just chosen a life that will always break them down.

Tonight was Carl Rundemention. Leslie knows he has a family because this is a high profile person. This was a big job, this was tragedy that would be in the news for weeks, ending with a beautiful ceremony where three children would line up in black to watch their father go into the ground. Their father that Leslie killed. Leslie knows what it’s like to grow up without a father.

Her throat tightens with a new wave and Ben rubs her arms again, pulling her body into his while the tub fills. She shakes and he runs his fingers through her hair until he finally pulls her toward the tub and helps her in.

He leaves her there for a few minutes, but she can see his shadow passing the small sliver of light that’s creeping into the bathroom. He’s doing all the work he’s supposed to be doing, writing up summaries, logging injuries or mishaps, taking stock of their clothing and what needs to be destroyed. She hears him talk on the phone.

Leslie pushes bubbles around the water while she listens and both distract her splendidly. Leslie has never been someone who likes to relax, who likes her mind to be still, but somehow these moments in the water don’t feel relaxing or meditative. She just busies her mind with whatever Ben does in the hotel room, she concentrates on the bubbles and tries to get them to work together or keep them separate, depending.

Ben pushes open the door, closing it a little bit, this time letting in more light. 

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” she whispers.

Her body is calm now, practically at it’s normal pace, but she felt weightless and tired all at once. She also missed Ben so much, as if he’d been gone for years. 

She raises her arms toward him and opens her hands.

“You’re done?”

“No, come in.”

Ben grabs one of her soapy fingers and she likes how the bubbles mix with his big, stained hands. 

“I can’t fit in there,” Ben says, a hint of something playful in his voice.

Leslie’s stomach does a small flip and she misses him even more. She pulls a little, saying, “Please.”

He undresses and taps her shoulder and she sits up and scoots forward so he can sit down behind her. As he gets into the bath, the water is disturbed and all her bubble work is gone, but she practically melts into Ben’s chest. He adjusts behind her and there’s a lot of splashing and huffs behind her and she smiles and the simple act of doing so makes her heart feel warm.

“It’s a little snug,” Ben says, wrapping his arms around Leslie.

Her hands immediately go to his and she’s pressing on his fingernails, making his fingers move along her stomach.

“I like it.”

“Oh yeah?” She can feel Ben’s teeth on her ear before he kisses it, bending down to kiss her neck a few times afterward.

“Yeah.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, where the only sound is of breathing and water dripping and moving. Leslie keeps playing with Ben’s fingers as his hands drift along her body. She leans back and closes her eyes as he rubs his hands along the sides of her stomach, down to her thighs and up again. He does it over and over and Leslie is sure she’s started floating.

“Are you feeling better?” Ben whispers, kissing her ear again. Her neck. Her shoulder.

“Mmhmm.”

“Me too,” Ben says.

Leslie blinks her eyes open and almost turns around, but he’s still hypnotizing her just enough to keep her rooted against him.

“You don’t think I was scared? Leslie, I killed him.”

He did. Ben isn’t a stranger to actually pulling the trigger, but he’s not supposed to. He’s in her ear, he guides, her he has the information and the back up and the strategies in place to stage each assignment. This one, though, didn’t go as planned and when there was a close call, Ben took care of everything himself.

“I’m sorry,” Leslie says. She’s sorry he had to step in, she’s sorry she didn’t think to check in with him, she’s sorry she messed up.

“I’m okay now,” Ben says, “helping you, helped me.”

“Ugh, that’s too nice.”

Ben laughs and his chest vibrates against her back and the shake runs through her body. His hands stop on her thigh and he squeezes them.

Ben doesn’t say he might have a nightmare tonight, he might cry tonight, he might crawl into bed and cover himself head to toe. Just because they had a hard assignment, doesn’t mean Ben will hide away or Leslie will spiral too far. They may be okay right now. It’s hard to know.

“Thank you,” Leslie says.

“Thank you.”

His hands move over her thighs, only the heel of his hand grazing her stomach. He spreads her legs slowly with each pass of his hands, fingers pressing into her flesh and creeping higher. He asks if she’s okay again and she nods, his mouth falling against her shoulder. He kisses her there, turns his head just enough to bite down onto the tender flesh where her shoulder meets her neck. 

Leslie sighs, small breaths escaping her lips as his fingers move along her thighs, his lips pushing against her skin. She can feel his dick against her back and it’s hard and perfect, making her body move just enough to enjoy friction there. He enjoys it, too, sighing her name against her shoulder.

He whispers that he loves her just as his fingers line her, sinking in just enough to feel her, explore her. Her sighs mix with gasps and she bites her lip as if volume matters in this moment. He’s slow to work, but Leslie loves it, doesn’t care if the water turns cold as he slides his fingers up and down, pushing her apart and slipping inside. 

Finally, his second hand joins the first, his index finger gently pushing and circling along her clit as two fingers push into her. Her eyes roll back and her head falls against him and she’s moaning now, water sloshing as she thrusts against his touch, letting her body respond to him in earnest.

There’s something about the aftermath of an assignment, of heightened feelings and fears, that makes them do this. That results in Ben’s hands between her legs, or Leslie’s lips wrapped around him, or their bodies connecting against any surface they can find.

Maybe it’s the overwhelming feeling of missing him that makes her do this, or the grateful pulse that goes through her veins, thankful for one more day together. It’s the strength they see in each other that makes them crave the connection of their bodies. It’s the love that’s so overpowering that it makes her forget that they’re murderers, that their lives didn’t pan out the way they were supposed to, that overwhelming feeling of complicated life paths and interwoven lives. That is what makes them kiss and fuck and find peace within each other.

It’s what makes her body tighten and relax and stars to explode in the universes they created with fingers, skin, and mouths.

“I love you,” Leslie says, trying to turn in the tub, her body still shaking and pulsing, her limbs hardly strong enough.

“I love you,” Ben says. “You’re alive.”

“You’re alive.”

Leslie crosses her fingers in front of her before she kisses him. She feels his fingers cross momentarily along her back, before he helps them both up. Their bodies drip water along the floor, the carpet, and make water seep into the bed as they fall onto the mattress, connecting again and again and again.


End file.
